


Clichéd

by Robin Hood (kjack89)



Category: Law & Order: SVU
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bickering, Established Relationship, M/M, Misunderstandings, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-25
Updated: 2019-05-25
Packaged: 2020-03-17 08:55:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18961999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kjack89/pseuds/Robin%20Hood
Summary: Barba watched the movie for a long moment before snorting at the unlikely and saccharine ending. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?” he asked.Carisi’s brow furrowed. “Tired of what?”Barba waved a dismissive hand toward the TV. “The same clichéd endings, the guy always getting the girl.” He took a sip of scotch. “Real life doesn’t work like that.”“No,” Carisi agreed, scooching over to kiss his temple, “because in real life, the guy got the guy.”“Ha ha,” Barba said dryly. “You know what I mean though.”Carisi’s smile faltered. “Actually, no, I don’t.”





	Clichéd

**Author's Note:**

> Usual disclaimer. Please be kind and tip your fanfic writers in the form of comments and/or kudos!

Barba’s phone rang and he answered it without looking, choosing instead to throw a somewhat apologetic look at his Uber driver, with whom he’d been sharing a comfortable silence until that moment. “This is Barba,” he said.

“Hey,” Olivia said, and just from the sound of her voice over his phone, Barba could tell she was tired. “Are you still in your office?”

“No, so you’d better not have any paperwork for me.”

Olivia laughed lightly. “No, nothing like that,” she assured him. “I even sent your favorite delivery boy home already. I actually wanted to see if you were up for a drink.”

Barba half-smiled. “Unfortunately for you, I’m on my way to see my favorite delivery boy, so I will have to take a rain check.” He paused, debating over how to phrase exactly what he wanted to ask her next. He and Carisi had been dating for long enough that Olivia knew probably more about their relationship than she had ever wanted to, but she likely didn’t know how things were going between them at the moment.

Or not going, depending on how you wanted to look at it.

Things between them had been strained recently, which Barba stubbornly blamed on their late hours of recent and higher than usual stress. Stubbornly, because he refused to believe for even a moment that this was anything more than a temporary blip.

After all, he loved Carisi. And, even on days when it didn’t feel like it, he knew Carisi loved him, too.

Barba cleared his throat. “Speaking of my favorite delivery boy, dare I ask what mood I’ll find him in when I get home?”

Olivia sighed. “It was a long day,” she said simply.

It was all she needed to say.

Barba sighed as well. “Same,” he said tiredly. “So this bodes well.”

“Good luck,” Olivia said, and Barba sighed once more before hanging up.

By the time he made it to their apartment building, Barba had tried to put any thoughts of a long day from his mind, trying to focus instead on spending time with his boyfriend. He was slightly reassured when he found Carisi stretched out on the couch, dressed in his NYPD sweatpants and one of Barba’s Harvard Law t-shirts and watching the TV.

Barba glanced at the TV, making a face even as he bent down to the kiss the top of Carisi’s head. “Sleepless in Seattle again?” he asked. “How many times have you watched this movie?”

Carisi half-heartedly swatted him away. “Shh, this is the best part,” he scolded, a slight smile on his face as Meg Ryan showed up at the Empire State Building.

Barba rolled his eyes affectionately before making his way into the kitchen and pouring himself a glass of scotch before sitting down next to Carisi on the couch. He watched the movie for a long moment before snorting at the unlikely and saccharine ending. “Don’t you ever get tired of it?” he asked.

Carisi’s brow furrowed. “Tired of what?”

Barba waved a dismissive hand toward the TV. “The same clichéd endings, the guy always getting the girl.” He took a sip of scotch. “Real life doesn’t work like that.”

“No,” Carisi agreed, scooching over to kiss his temple, “because in real life, the guy got the guy.”

“Ha ha,” Barba said dryly. “You know what I mean though.”

Carisi’s smile faltered. “Actually, no, I don’t.”

Barba sighed, feeling a headache building. He knew that he should just leave well enough alone, but he couldn’t, his own shitty day and his irritation getting the better of him. “Sorry, I’m just having a hard time believing in happily ever after when I had to sit in a Grand Jury for 8 hours today listening to a woman who’s been married for 30 years spell out in detail how her husband repeatedly beat and raped her.”

Something darkened in Carisi’s expression. “Did they indict?”

Barba smiled grimly. “You bet your ass they did.”

“Good.” Carisi looked away before taking a deep breath and glancing back at Barba. “But, uh, what the hell does that have to do with me watching rom-coms?”

“It’s not just the romantic comedies,” Barba muttered sourly. “It’s the romantic comedies and the primetime soaps and the TV dating shows, and—”

“And what?” Carisi asked, his voice tight.

“And I just think that given everything you and I see in our jobs, given that we both know happily ever after is, nine times out of ten, complete bullshit, that it wouldn’t hurt for you to be a little more realistic.”

Carisi sucked in a breath. “A little more realistic?” he repeated incredulously. “Because heaven fucking forbid that after a long day of working on cases about rape and murder and abuse that I might wanna come home and watch something that makes me happy.” Barba rolled his eyes but Carisi didn’t let him interrupt. “You think I’m not realistic about the world we live in, Rafael? Is that what you honest to God think?”

“Of course not,” Barba sighed, running a hand across his face. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He glanced at Carisi, at his still-furrowed brow and the exhaustion that tightened his eyes. “It was just a long day.”

Ordinarily, Carisi would have laughed lightly and that would be the end of it, but that night, his expression didn’t so much as flicker. “Is that really it?” he asked instead, his voice soft, and Barba looked at him sharply.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, it’s not like this is the first time you’ve made fun of me for watching rom-coms or Grey’s Anatomy or whatever,” Carisi said, his arms crossed tightly in front of his chest.

Barba stared at him. “I make fun of you for a lot of things,” he said, not quite seeing where Carisi was going with this.

“Yeah, you do,” Carisi said, jerking a nod. “And maybe I’m beginning to think there’s a kernel of truth in it.”

“In what?” Barba asked blankly. “In what I make fun of you for? Because it’s not exactly a secret that I’m not a huge fan of trashy tv.”

“Maybe, but I’m beginning to think you’re also not a huge fan of people who do like trashy tv.”

Barba threw his hands up. “And maybe I’m not!” he shot back. “Maybe, as a whole, I tend not to think highly of people who voluntarily spend their free time watching this insipid nonsense.”

Carisi recoiled, his expression hardening. “So that’s what you really think of me, huh.”

“Of course not,” Barba huffed, reaching for Carisi, who shied away from him. “Sonny—”

“Don’t,” Carisi snapped. “ _Don’t_. I know you think that this is just some stupid personality flaw or whatever, but this ‘insipid nonsense’ matters to me, ok? And if you loved me — if you _really_ loved me — you wouldn’t shit all over that.” He stood. “I’m gonna go spend the night at Amanda’s or something.”

Barba caught his wrist before he could turn away. “Wait a second,” he said, standing as well, and when Carisi glared down at where he was holding his wrist, Barba released him before holding his hands up defensively. “Can I please say something?” Carisi nodded stiffly and Barba sighed. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how this turned into a fight, and I didn’t mean it to.”

Carisi’s expression softened, just slightly. “Me neither,” he admitted quietly.

“And since I do love you — and I really love you — I’m sorry if I misstepped tonight.” Carisi gave him a look and Barba hastened to add, “Or any other night. But you and I both know that mockery and banter is our love language. It’s what we’ve always done, and I certainly hope it’s what we always will. So making fun of you — it’s me saying I love you. I’m sorry if I didn’t communicate that clearly enough.”

For a moment, it almost looked like Carisi might smile, though he shook his head slowly. “You said that you don’t think highly of people who watch trashy tv,” he pointed out.

“And as a whole, I don’t,” Barba said honestly. “But I also happen to be a pretty big fan of one person who watches trashy tv.”

Now Carisi did smile, even if it wasn’t quite the blinding grin that Barba was used to. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Barba reached for Carisi’s hand, and this time, Carisi let him take it. “The biggest fan, I’d bet.”

“I dunno,” Carisi said with a chuckle, pulling Barba close and wrapping an arm around his waist. “My ma might give you a run for your money.”

Barba laughed lightly and stretched up to kiss Carisi softly. “You’re not wrong,” he murmured, searching his eyes for a moment before asking, “So am I forgiven?”

“That depends,” Carisi said, still mostly smiling, though his tone was serious enough for Barba to know he wasn’t fully joking. “You gonna stop telling me that happy endings are delusional?”

Instead of answering, Barba kissed him once more. “How about we call it a truce,” he suggested. “And we can pick this up at a later time.”

Carisi’s smile widened. “You never know when to give up, do you?” he asked, seemingly rhetorically, especially as he bent to kiss Barba on the forehead. “Fine. I’ll agree to a temporary ceasefire.”

“Thank God,” Barba said with a sigh. “I wasn’t looking forward to sleeping alone tonight.”

Still, an uneasy peace hung between them as they got ready for bed and as they lay in bed together, and Barba couldn’t help but feel like they were miles apart even with Carisi’s arm wrapped around his waist.

And as Barba drifted off to sleep, he knew that he needed to do something to fix it.

He just didn’t know what.

* * *

 

Carisi was woken the next morning not by his alarm clock but by his cell phone ringing, and he groaned before rolling over to answer it. “Carisi,” he said, his voice still thick with sleep.

“We got a case,” Amanda said in greeting and Carisi sighed and glanced at the clock.

“Text me the address and I’ll meet you there,” he said before disconnecting and sitting up, trying not to wake Barba in the process.

He didn’t really know where their argument — which, truthfully, looked even more ridiculous in the light of day — had come from, nor why he’d gotten so bent out of shape over one little snark when their entire relationship was built on a mountain of snark. But something about Barba’s blatant dismissal of rom-coms and happy endings left Carisi feeling a little lost.

After all, shouldn’t a happy ending be exactly what they should be aiming for? Even if Carisi knew damn well it wasn’t going to look like anything out of a movie or episode of Grey’s Anatomy.

Maybe that was it, Carisi thought moodily as he put on what he hoped was a clean suit. Maybe he and Barba wanted different things. Maybe this thing had been doomed from the start.

Thankfully, that train of thought was interrupted by Barba muttering sleepily, “Leaving already?”

“Got called in on a case,” Carisi told him, pausing at the bed to drop a light kiss on Barba’s forehead. “Go back to bed.”

To his surprise, Barba reached up to tug him closer and kiss him properly. “We’re ok, right?” he asked, drawing his thumb lightly over Carisi’s cheekbone.

“Of course,” Carisi said, turning his head to kiss the palm of Barba’s hand. “We’re fine.”

“I love you.”

Carisi swallowed hard against the unexpected emotion that rose in his chest. How could he think that they were doomed when they had moments like this, moments that were all Carisi had ever wanted? “Yeah,” he said, his voice a little hoarse. “I love you, too.”

Barba smiled at him, that little genuine smile that he seemed to save only for Carisi, his eyelids already fluttering closed again, and Carisi bent to kiss his forehead once more before heading to the crime scene address Amanda had texted him, feeling far better than he had when he woke up.

The feeling did not last.

It was a bad day, made worse by lack of sleep and certainly not improved by radio silence from Barba throughout the day. They didn’t text each other constantly on most days or anything like that, but after everything the night before, Carisi had hoped that Barba would be more communicative than usual.

Clearly, he was wrong.

Finally, Carisi finished up his notes from one of eight interrogations he had sat through that afternoon and stood, grabbing his suit jacket as he headed toward the elevator.

“You heading out?” Fin asked, hurrying to intercept him.

Carisi glanced at him warily. “Yeah, I am,” he said, jabbing the button for the elevator. “And before you try to pile anymore work on me, Sarge, the Lieu told me I could go.”

Fin chuckled. “I’m not trying to keep you,” he assured Carisi. “I’m just—” He broke off as the elevator door slid open, quickly stepping in front of it and standing in Carisi’s way.

Carisi stared at him. “Do you need something?”

“No.”

“Then will you move?”

“Nope,” Fin said, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “You’re not taking this one.”

“Fin, what the hell,” Carisi said tiredly. “C’mon, man, I just wanna go home.” Fin just shook his head and Carisi rolled his eyes, waiting for the door behind Fin to slide closed before he smacked the down button again, scowling.

This time, the other elevator opened and Carisi glared at Fin. “Can I go?” he asked.

Fin smirked and held his hands up defensively. “Go on,” he said. “Have a good night.”

Carisi rolled his eyes again and slumped toward the elevator, his mouth dropping open as he froze in the doorway. “What—?” he croaked, staring around the elevator, which was covered, floor to ceiling, in copies of old case files, before looking at Barba, who was smiling at him.

“Hi,” Barba said, and Carisi shook his head wordlessly.

“You— you stole this from Grey’s Anatomy,” he said, but his voice was breathy, and without any accusation.

Barba’s grin widened. “Maybe I did,” he said with a shrug. “Does that matter?”

Carisi shook his head again. “No,” he said, in a dazed sort of voice. “No.”

Barba’s smile softened slightly, and he shifted to point to one of the casefiles hung closest to the door. “Ellie Porter. Your first case at SVU. My first time trying to decipher the chicken scratch you call handwriting.”

Carisi scoffed, not quite able to stop his smile. “My handwriting’s fine.”

“Yeah, ok,” Barba said with a snort, though he softened the snark by grabbing Carisi’s hand and squeezing it. “And here, this is Evie Barnes.”

“You fought so hard for her,” Carisi whispered.

Barba glanced up at him. “We both did.”

Hand in hand, they walked the small perimeter of the elevator as Barba walked Carisi through all the cases they had worked on together. When they were done, Carisi wrapped his arms around Barba’s waist from behind, tucking his chin to rest it on Barba’s shoulder. “We got justice for so many people.”

To his surprise, Barba laughed lightly before turning to kiss him lightly. “See, this is exactly why I did this.”

Carisi’s brow furrowed. “I don’t—”

“When you look at these cases, you see the victories,” Barba told him, his voice turning wistful. “I see nothing but the losses, all the perps who we never put away.”

“But we won so many—”

“I know,” Barba interrupted gently. “But that’s who I am. And focusing on the wins — it’s who you are.” He squeezed Carisi’s hand. “It’s what makes us better together than we ever were apart. And it’s what I didn’t understand before.” He reached up to cup Carisi’s cheek. “I didn’t get why you were so upset last night, but now I do. Because it’s more than just a rom-com or a trashy primetime soap opera to you. You really do believe in happily ever after.” He kissed Carisi lightly. “And I love you for it.”

Carisi smiled, but there was something hesitant in his expression. “And that’s why you did all this? To show me you understand?”

Barba shook his head. “No, I did this because you deserve it. Because it’s clichéd. Because it’s cheesy. Because it’s everything that you love. And because I love you. And you deserve clichéd, and cheesy, and—” He hesitated for just a moment. “And you deserve a happy ending.”

“Raf—” Carisi started, breaking off when Barba slowly got down on one knee, the breath catching in his throat as he stared at him, watching as Barba pulled a ring box out of his pocket.

“I’m going to misquote this, but—” Barba took a deep breath. “I’m not gonna get down on one knee.” He glanced down and made a face. Ok, well I guess I fucked that up.” He looked back up at Carisi, unable to stop his smile. “But I’m not going to ask a question. I love you, Dominick Carisi Jr. And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

Carisi’s answering grin was blinding. “And I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

He practically yanked Barba to his feet, pressing him against the wall of the elevator as he kissed him. Barba laughed lightly, placing a hand on Carisi’s chest. “One more thing,” he said, and Carisi let out a breathy sigh.

“How can there possibly be more?” he asked, kissing along Barba’s jaw and grinning when Barba squirmed.

“I just figured if we were doing this, we might as well do it all the way.” Carisi pulled back, confused, as Barba again reached into his pocket, this time pulling out a slightly crumpled Post-It note.

Carisi grinned, grabbing the Post-It and scanning over what Barba had scribbled on it before glancing back at Barba. “Seriously?”

“Well, it’s not like it’s legally binding in the state of New York, but—”

He was cut off by Carisi kissing him again, cradling his jaw. The Post-It note fluttered to the floor as Carisi deepened the kiss, but neither man seemed to notice or care. They only sprang apart when, at long last, and far too long for it to have been a normal elevator trip, the elevator arrived on the ground floor.

Carisi grinned at Barba. “How’d you pull this off, anyway?”

“He owes me about eight thousand favors,” Olivia said brightly, stepping onto the elevator, and Carisi ducked his head sheepishly.

“Hey, Lieu,” he muttered.

Olivia just shook her head. “I’m assuming it went well, so congratulations, you two. Now get out of here — go celebrate.”

Barba looked up at Carisi, grinning. “You don’t have to tell me twice,” he said, lacing his fingers with Carisi’s and pulling him toward the door. “Just put all the case files in my office, I’ll deal with them later,” he called over his shoulder.

Olivia laughed and shook her head again as she bent to pick up the Post-It note from the floor, sticking it on a case file without reading what Barba had written, the three simple vows, two of which he had stolen from Grey’s Anatomy like everything else, and one that was just for Carisi:

> _I vow to love you even when I hate you._
> 
> _No running._
> 
> _You are my happy ending._


End file.
